I gaped. I stared. I screamed. But most importantly, I stood there, unable to do anything for my loved ones. They were scarred and slashed. Beaten and withered until they were almost dead. With every new scar it was if they had bruised my soul. My very heart was in them. I knew them so well, they knew me so well. And now? Who knows? With one good blow to the head?

They may forget me too. The one who always made their day. The one who stayed up every night they were sick. The one who twisted and bent the rules for their well-being. The one who gave up everything; just to be with them.

As usual, I’m worthless. Powerless. Unable to anything against these vile creatures who were tearing my life apart. I ran and shoved and pushed and persuaded - but nothing could stop them.

And at the last second before the others come in? They take them away from me. Shoving them into the light like slaves being taken to the fields to do work. Looks like those human stories aren’t so far off from our own lives as elves.

The next thing? Guilt. Guilt for not manifesting. Guilt for not being the best provider. Guilt for not being able to protect my loved ones in times of need. Guilt for - guilt for everything.

It is often said that before you die, the most important moments of your life flash before your eyes. And I cannot emphasize just how true that statement is. All the discrimination. All the torment. All the undermining. All the injustice.

And to the animals who always made me happy. Thank you for making my day when it isn't so great. Thank you for always being there, no matter how stupid that sounds. Thank you for helping me get through the days when I wasn’t able to do it anymore. But now... is it even worth it anymore?

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